The Sea Gives Us What We Need
by HecateA
Summary: The year since the Battle of Hogwarts has been hell for Bill and Fleur, who are left clinging to each other and desperate for a win. Never, however, would they have imagined it coming from here. Changeling!AU


**Author's note: **Couple of things going on here… First off, I had the epiphany while writing this that it would be incredibly awkward for Fleur to call Bill "Bill" because of her French accent and the fact that it would always sound too much like the French word for 'bile' to her, so I figured she'd call him William. Secondly, the creature in this story is loosely based on the Xana—an Asturian spirit with a variety of roles, often associated with changelings. I took some creative license with this one, but I like how this story turned out. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Hogwarts: **Assignment #10, Potions, Task #3: Write about someone running out of energy

**Warnings: **Grief

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**The Sea Gives Us What We Need **

For a long time, all they could really do was give.

They gave out wedding invitations. They gave their time to the Order and frankly discussed how willing they were to give it more. She gave up her country when the Dark Lord closed the United Kingdom's borders. He gave up his career and his freedom when his family was marked. They gave shelter and safety to those that needed to hide. When the news came that the war was finally going to the castle, it only took one look for them to agree that on this night they might give their lives to the world, too.

Ultimately, they didn't—out of luck, not for lack of willingness. But when the dust settled, it became increasingly clear that survival did not and would not lead to peace or rest.

She spent hours with the wounded, who couldn't and wouldn't be transferred to St. Mungo's Hospital until it was clear that the institution had been cleansed from its Death Eater presence. He spent hours holding his mother, his father, his brothers, and his sister when the unthinkable happened. They planned funerals and attended them and mourned with and for others. They volunteered their time to help rebuild the castle over the summer, so that it could reopen in time for school and help its students move on. They testified at the hearings, they poured their stories out into the world, they protected their loved ones from the press, and offered up their quiet seaside home as a sanctuary from it all.

All the while, she gave him strength and reassured him about the scars cutting his face, in the form of whispers in the night. He gave her his word that it was over, this war that had split open through the contest that still gave her nightmares. They gave themselves to each other completely and freely, as they had promised, but it didn't feel like enough.

"I'm exhausted," Fleur whispered quietly one night, when they'd come home from a ceremony at the Ministry of Magic.

"Me too," Bill said. He didn't have anything helpful to offer, he was exhausted too, and that scared him.

"I do not want to do this anymore," Fleur said quietly. "The war is over and I do not want to keep fighting it and mourning it and facing its damage. I will, but I am tired of it, William."

"Me too," Bill said quietly. He reached an arm out to hold her against him, but the tension and the stress and the aches stayed coiled in both their bodies. That was frightening too, and neither of them slept well that night.

They even gave up the first afternoon they had allocated to themselves, alone and undisturbed, in weeks. They were walking down the beach, kilometers away from their home, when they saw the thrashing in the sea.

"Something is trapped," Fleur said.

"What? So close to the shore?" Bill asked. The size and shape looked all wrong. "What..?"

Before he had finished asking his question, Fleur had kicked off her shoes and rolled up her jeans above her knees to wade into the water. Bill only had time to take off his own shoes before following her in. They stood together, with the water up to their thighs, processing what was before them.

It was a water spirit, beautiful and eerily slender, blue-eyed with hair that curled like the crest of a wave. Her garments seemed to merge with the water around her, spare the fishing net she was tangled in. Even if he didn't quite know who or what she was, something stirred in the pit of Bill's stomach as he contemplated how wrong it was for her to look like she was drowning.

"Who?" Bill asked.

"It does not matter," Fleur said, perhaps less taken aback because of her own Veela heritage. "Excuse me, may we touch you?"

When the creature didn't respond, Fleur repeated the question in perfect Mermish—the only sea creature language she knew. The creature stirred, unsure, but then nodded. Fleur reached down and ran her fingers along the netting. She clucked her tongue.

"It is a net from those poachers who hunt the Hippocampi around here," Fleur said. "It has the same charms on it. _Je jure, _if I ever see one of them in broad daylight…"

"It's okay," Bill said. "It's okay. We've dealt with these before—we know how to untangle them and release her. Have you got your wand?"

Fleur nodded and drew it. She held it between her teeth as she piled up her hair in a bun on top of her head before getting to work. She spoke to the creature in Mermish again, and it seemed to understand though it couldn't respond: "_We can free you. Please give us time to work." _

It took hours. When a particularly big wave submerged the creature's face she choked, and he realized that she couldn't breathe saltwater. Whoever and whatever she was, she must be impossibly far from home to find herself in the Celtic Sea. It slowed them down, the fact that only one person could work while the other held the creature up, and their work was already delicate as it was. It took all afternoon, but they freed her. Marks from the net left angry, red imprints on the water spirit's skin and she looked frightened, as she looked up at them and at her own free body. But otherwise, she looked okay.

She dove out of Bill's arms and into the water, disappearing from this patch of ocean before she was even properly submerged. She left them standing in the sea, shivering, until they were sure that she had gone. They padded home to build a fire in their hearth, take warm showers, and bundle up.

But she did not forget. Their touch had been incredibly gentle. The things they had murmured to her, whether in a foreign dialect of Mermish or in the human French and English languages that may as well have been babbling to her, had been soft and soothing. Their work had been careful, skilled, and caring. The way they had held her had been protective and determined. She did not forget.

One night, she woke up alone and crept downstairs in search of her husband. He was sitting on the front porch in the soft pants he slept in. The first thing she saw when she opened the door to join him and the tinkling wind chimes was the network of scars on his back.

"William?" she said quietly.

"Hey," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"Not at all," she said. She pulled her robe against herself and joined him on the steps.

"It's been a year," Bill said. "My brother died a year ago today. I nearly lost it all a year ago. We _did _lose so much a year ago. I could have lost you too."

"Yes," Fleur said quietly. "A year is meant to be so much time, but I… it is still fresh."

"I'm still exhausted," Bill said.

"Me too," Fleur said. "Me too and I am afraid of being tired forever. I do not know… how long we can keep the world together, Bill."

"We will," Bill said. "We can. I just… I can't wait for it to start feeling like I can rest without the world falling apart. One year is arbitrary, but I just… part of me wanted today to be that day. But I still woke up from a nightmare about Greyback and I know that when we visit George's grave today I'm going to fall apart—but only when we get home, not when everyone else is."

"We need a win," Fleur said quietly. "A simple victory. One that does not come with a cost and that we do not need to recover from."

That was when they heard the crying. The wails were intense and it only broke for soft whimpers and the shrill cries of a cold baby.

"William?" Fleur asked.

"I hear it," Bill said. He had his wand with him and he whispered, "Lumos."

Fleur did not, so she quickly fumbled for the matchbox they kept in the mailbox and lit a hanging lantern that she then unhooked from its spot by the door.

"Where is it coming from?" Bill asked. He and Fleur both turned to look towards the sea at the exact same moment.

Fleur took off running, hair and night robe streaking behind her. When she approached the shore, she saw the basket floating in the water and ran into the freezing water with no hesitation. When she was close enough to see the basket, she dropped the lantern to pick up the crying infant inside. The light went out and her touch seemed to soothe the child. She pressed the baby against her chest and wrapped it in her robe, wishing the material was thicker than silk. The light from Bill's wand soon illuminated the scene.

"Hello?" Bill asked. "Hello, is anyone there? Is there any sign of wreckage, or…"

That was when they saw her; the water spirit, standing on the water's surface and looking at them. A breeze the rest of them couldn't feel whipped her hair back and forth, and she watched them holding the child.

"_Vous," _Fleur said, shocked. She switched to Mermish soon enough. "You look well. Is she yours?"

The water spirit shook her head and, as she had last they'd seen her, she disappeared.

The infant, however, stayed in Fleur's arms. In the light of Bill's wand, her features were easier to see. Clear and delicately shaped blue eyes that Bill would have recognized as his wife's anywhere, a streak of rusty auburn hair…

"We should bring her inside," Bill said quietly.

"She does not feel cold to me but yes, we should," Fleur said, cradling the child more protectively by the minute. "But who is she?"

Bill reached out and touched the little girl's cheek with his fingertips. It confirmed what he'd known the second he'd seen her in Fleur's arms, and he felt confident enough to tell her now.

"I think she might be our victory."

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**Stacked with: **MC4A; Shipping Wars; Hogwarts; Winter Bingo; Vile Vials

**Individual Challenge(s): **Hola, Bonjour, Jambo; Small Fry; Gryffindor MC; Beauxbatons MC; Creature People; Spring Rain; Seeds; Baby Mine; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Themes & Things A (New Beginnings); Themes & Things B (Joy); Themes & Things C (Dressing Gown/Robe); Tiny Terror; Rian-Russo Inversion; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux

**Representation(s): **Water spirit; Shell Cottage; Changeling

**Bonus Challenge(s): **Triton's Domain; Mermaid; Second Verse (Creature Feature); Chorus (Found Family)

**Tertiary Bonus Challenge(s): NA**

**Word Count: 1706 **

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_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Bill Weasley/Fleur Delacour (Winged Wolf)

**List (Prompt): **Summer Micro 2 (Fairy/Fae)

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_**Winter Bingo **_

**Space (Prompt): **4C (Family)


End file.
